


A Closeness That You Keep

by sansasbolton



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rather Depressing, mentions of rape/violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansasbolton/pseuds/sansasbolton
Summary: Set after Sansa's marriage to Ramsay, Sansa and Theon find comfort in each other.





	A Closeness That You Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sweetsourwolf for helping me name tihs one!

“Theon,” a soft voice said.

Tired eyes fluttered opened. Reek lay naked at the foot of the bed. Still groggy from sleep and stiff from the laying on the floor he sat up to found Sansa looking to him. She was in the bed, propped up with one arm while the other hand held the furs over her round belly and chest.  
The auburn hair made a messy frame around her weary face. She appeared to be looking at him through slits.

Normally, Reek was sent back to the kennels when Ramsay was done with him, but his master had permitted him to sleep at the foot of the bed. He had been grateful for this. Even the floor of their bedchamber was an improvement.

Weakly Sansa patted the empty space next to her. The corner of the blanket fell away, exposing bruises across her chest from evenings with her husband. "Lay next to me,” she said softly. “I’m sure it’s more comfortable than the floor."

His mouth opened a moment before he actually responded. "I can't… if Lord Ramsay-"

"He doesn't come here during the day," she assured him. When he didn't move she sighed and gently said, "Please."

Before he had confessed to not killing her brothers Sansa had been cold towards him, not that he could blame her. There was very little left in the world for her. Now she was kinder to him, although he suspected that she would have crumbled eventually. There was nothing lonelier than being Ramsay's pet, even if the company murdered your family.

"He's not here, you don't have to be Reek," she said. “Theon, please.”

Shaking his head, he mumbled, "Not Theon. Reek."

It took a bit more coaxing before Reek finally moved from the floor. Cautiously he crawled onto the featherbed to take his master's spot, quick to cover himself in the wolf skins.

With a sigh Sansa lay down, curling up on her side facing him. Feeling awkward in the comfortable bed, Reek stiffly lowered his head to the pillow. He felt so out of place, wrapped in soft furs. Anxiety hit him and he felt the need to look around. The room was empty as she had told him. There was still a part of him that didn't believe her, didn’t believe his own eyes. Maybe Ramsay was trying to trick them both. He’d appear with his malicious smile, thinking up all kinds of punishments.

From the corner of his eye he watched her hand raise to his face. Tenderly she caressed his cheek, moving over his unshaven jaw.

"I think you were having a nightmare," Sansa told him. Her hand moved to comb his unkempt hair. "You were mumbling a lot."

It took him a moment to realize she meant to explain why she had woken him. He had thought he had been dreaming of another life, where he was Theon Greyjoy. But maybe he’d been wrong. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine.”

"If Lord Ramsay sees…" he mumbled.

"He won’t.” She sounded so sure. He wanted to trust her.

Theon shifted to lay on his side, all the while glancing at the chamber door. To his surprise Sansa snuggled against him, her round belly pressed against his frail frame. Sansa never touched him, and to his surprise she managed to be so close to him without her stomach turning. The first few months of her pregnancy she was truly sensitive to his scent, though it hadn’t only been him. Even before then she seemed repulsed by him. Maybe she’d grown numb to it the way he had.

As if she could read his mind she mumbled, "I don't care how you smell.”

They lay facing each other, their heads resting on the same pillow. He could see her cheeks were still red and puffy. Perhaps there was still a damp spot on a pillow where she’d buried her face the evening before.

In a tender voice she reminded him of her husband’s daytime absence. Reek needed the reassurance. He took a deep breath, trying to relax.

Sansa shifted around and their noses nearly touched; they were close enough to kiss. The idea scared Reek. Ramsay would cut off his lips for such a thought.

Sansa lay her arm across his side, holding him tight. Gingerly, he moved his arm around her hip.

Her body was warm and her skin surprisingly soft. Snuggled against her it was easy to feel spoiled. He couldn’t recall the last tender touch he’d felt. The strokes of her fingers made him feel drowsy again. Her eyes had closed and gradually her movements slowed. Reek allowed himself to close his eyes and he drifted back to sleep.

Reek felt something push against his thin stomach. He woke with a start, lurching upright, starling Sansa in the process as she was accidentally pushed away.

It was still daytime. They were still alone.

They looked at one another, both startled. “I'm sorry,” he stammered dejectedly.

“Bad dream?”

He shook his head.

"Did the baby startle you?” She ran both her hands over her belly. “He scares me sometimes too."

The Bolton baby had kicked him. Maybe he knew it wasn’t his father embracing his mother; Ramsay wasn’t one for cuddling.

Sansa eased back to her side, looking to him, expecting him to lay back down. Instead Reek turned to get up. Sansa caught his arm. "Where are you going?” she asked wearily.

"I'll come back," he promised.

As hopeless as she looked, she released her grip. Reek slid from the bed to retrieve his clothes. The rags sat in a pile from the evening before when Ramsay had ordered him to strip. While he dressed Sansa shifted to her other side, hiding herself beneath the furs as he left.

He shuffled down to the kitchen, immersing himself in his favorite daydream: escape. Every day he thought about running away, but he couldn't leave by himself. He couldn't leave Sansa. But where would they go? Where could they possibly go where Ramsay wouldn’t be able to find them? Across the Narrow Sea? Would that be far enough?

It wouldn’t be long before the baby was born. At least in Winterfell the child would be cared for, even if they themselves wouldn't be.

Before her pregnancy Sansa had constantly urged him to help her leave. "We can leave together," she had promised. He wanted to, more than anything, but he couldn't. Fear kept him in place. If Lord Ramsay caught them their punishments would far exceed the reasons they had fled in the first place. There were still plenty of fingers Reek didn’t need, and there were many things Sansa didn't require to give her husband heirs.

Reek waited while her tray was prepared. No one liked him around. He wandered around in the cold air, wishing he were back snuggled against Sansa, but she needed to eat.

One of the kitchen girls left the tray for him so she didn’t have to stand near him. Reek inspected it, making sure everything was in order. Lady Sansa had become particular in her diet. Chicken, apples, and of course, lemon cakes.

Reek returned to Sansa's chamber with the tray of food. In his absence she had dressed. Now her hair was perfectly done. The dress she wore was black and elegant. The fabric fit tightly over the bump of her belly. Her face was just as beautiful, but somber. It had been somber a long time.

Reek set the tray on the table and she shook her head. "You can eat it."

"You have to eat. For the baby."

"You eat some and I will."

"I-I can't."

She pushed the tray towards him. "We won't tell him." 

"Mustn't keep secrets,” Reek mumbled, shaking his head.

"Well, tell him I made you." He didn’t move. “Please.”

Cautiously, he sat and took a piece of bread. He brought it to his lips and as he chewed Sansa picked up one of the lemon cakes. Every knew Sansa loved cakes, and it seemed the baby enjoyed them as well. The skin of her stomach ripple as little feet kicked for freedom, or more lemon cakes.

Reek watched at the door long enough until he was satisfied it was closed and there was no one behind it. He whispered to her, "We should have left."

Unenthusiastically, she nodded. "I can't move very fast anymore." She ran her hand over her belly. The baby’s motions had ceased momentarily. "Not yet," she added solemnly.

Sansa selected the last lemon cake and leaned across the small table, pushing it to Reek’s lips. When he didn’t take it Sansa told him, "The baby has had his. I don't want to spoil him so soon."

Reek took a small bite. It was sweet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had sweets. He took the rest of the treat from her fingers, nibbling at it while she spoke.

"Where are we going to run away to?" Sansa asked. There was a faint smile on her face.

"Far, far away."

"I'd like that." Her smile seemed to brighten, or maybe he'd imagined it.

They shared their fantasies of escape with each other. Later at the window they watched as the sky swallowed sun. The room darkened and their hopes with it. Sansa took Theon’s hand, and soon they could hear steps approaching the room. Their fingers gripped tight on another’s hand tight until the last moment when they heard him at the door. Only then did they pull away.


End file.
